Love is Never Ending
by Scelerata
Summary: Cid and Vincent sneak away for a moment's privacy. [2009]


He could feel his shirt ride up unintentionally as warm, heavy hands layered over his concave stomach, his waist pinned between thick forearms. The crimson sunset glinted off his metallic gauntlet as he reached up to pluck blonde hair affectionately, the same red glow dancing in his peripheral vision from the glass floor of goggle lenses. He found it hard to suppress a grin, so he didn't, letting his lips turn up over barely-too-large teeth as he shivered with delight.

"Cold?" Came the country boy drawl, thick in his ear and teasing him. Vincent snickered, the sound naturally sultry. He elbowed Cid lightly in the ribs, and pulled away, reaching up to tie his fingers into his own lively mess of hair.

"Never." He rasped, taking a casual step to the side as Cid lunged playfully for him again, stumbling over a root as he bolted stupidly past the gunner, and fell face first into the fallen leaves amassed along the edges of the forest trail. The temperature of the shadowed walk seemed to drop several degrees, as if to suggest that Cid was hardly the hot shot he thought himself to be.

"Cold?" Vincent cooed back derisively, though with a pleasant smile, his head cocked slightly to the side, a single brow raised. Cid squirmed and rolled over, swatting away a decaying leaf from his face with a thick hand. He eyed Vincent once over, then laughed, propping himself up on his elbows.

"With you 'round? Shit."  
He raised one hand, and extended to Vincent expectantly.

"Nev'r. Help me up."

Vincent's smile broadened discreetly, and he stepped over the pilot, grabbing him by the wrist with thin fingers. He was about to hoist the large man to his feet, when Cid twisted his arm to reverse the hold, and gave Vincent a sound jerk, calloused hand flying to the back of the lithe man's head as he fell ungracefully on top of him with an uncharacteristic whoop. Tucking his worn digits under Vincent's frayed red headband, he forcibly closed the distance, meeting him halfway in a passionate kiss, their lips awkward and sloppy against each other in an embrace of sandpaper and velvet.

"I hope you're a better pilot than you are a kisser." Vincent mocked lowly as they departed each other, the corner of his mouth curling into a warm smirk. Cid scoffed.

"Yeah like yer one t' talk, Val'ntine." Cid spat back, biting back a laugh. He had to at least feign indignation.

"I am a wonderful kisser." Vincent breathed in the harsh gravel of his voice. There was an air of pride in his tone that Cid liked; it was a breath of fresh air to feel something other than humility on the ex-Turk's countenance.

"Yeah?" He questioned, receiving an 'Isn't it obvious?' nod for his troubles. "Prove it."

Vincent sighed in false exasperation, and leaned over him, hair falling in his face and dancing between their noses. "You don't believe me?" He purred.

"I nev'r b'lieve ev'rything I hear."

"How admirable." The gunner laughed, leaning in so that their lips brushed delicately around a thin haze of hair. Cid rose a hand, and brushed the black wisps away, closing the kiss with a sigh, the sensation much more warm and delicate this time around, though no more and no less special.

Vincent held it until he could no longer breath, which was far longer than Cid, whose chest was burning by the time the gunner pulled away, a look of subtle triumph in his crimson eyes as he stared down at the gasping airship pilot, wanting to laugh at him and his heaving chest, but choking too much for air himself to muster it.

"The others have realized we're missing by now." He finally choked, around what sounded like a mouthful of gravel. Cid laughed a wheezing laugh, and threaded his fingers over the small of Vincent's back, thumbs stroking the deceivingly soft fabric of his cloak.

"Y'think?" He questioned lazily, and let his blue eyes drift shut briefly. "Good thing we made sure to get good and goddamn lost then, eh?"

Vincent's eyelids fell halfway, and he sighed, slowly sinking down to rest his chin on Cid's broad chest. He inhaled the pilot's unique, musky scent, and smiled to himself, tucking a hang beneath his chin, and allowing his fingers to wrap around the thick denim of his jacket collar. Rolling his neck comfortably, he let his head droop so that his cheek nuzzled into Cid's breastplate, and closed his eyes. Cid grunted contently, and gave him a soft squeeze, quietly delighting as the wind blew Vincent's sweet-smelling hair past his nose.


End file.
